bably been driven away, but he knew, too,
that if Four Bits was within hearing of his whistle he could be depended
upon to answer.

The cowpuncher had offered no resistance to being tied except a passive
one. He had kept his chest expanded as much as possible when the ropes
had been tightened and he had braced the muscles of his arm against the
pressure of the folds. Ten minutes of steady work released one arm. The
rest was a matter of a few moments. With his knife he slashed the ropes
that bound Shorty and Orman.

Already his whistle had brought an answer from Four Bits. Five minutes
later Steve was astride the barebacked horse galloping across country
toward Los Robles. His friends he had left to follow on foot as best
they could. He had a very particular reason why he wanted to reach the
hotel as soon as possible. A suspicion had bitten into his mind. He
wanted to verify or dismiss it.

An hour later Four Bits pounded down the main street of Los Robles.
Almost simultaneously Yeager brought the horse slithering to a halt and
with one lithe swing of his body landed on the ground in front of the
hotel porch. He ran up the steps and into the lobby. Behind his cage the
night clerk was drowsing.

"Anybody come into the hotel the last thirty minutes?" Yeager asked
sharply.

The clerk thought. "No, I reckon not. There was Mr. Simmons--but that
was most an hour since."

"Nobody else?"

"No. Why?"

The range-rider turned to the stairs, took them three at a time, and
followed the corridor to Room 217. He hammered on the door with his
fist.

A sleepy voice wanted to know who was there.

"It's Steve Yeager, Mr. Threewit. I wanta see you."

"You've got all to-morrow to see me in, haven't you?"

"My business won't wait."

Grumbling, the producing director got up. Presently he opened the door
and stood revealed in a dressing-gown over his pajamas.

"What do you want, my anxious friend?"

"We've been held up."

"Held up!" A slow grin spread over Threewit's fat good-natured face.
"Well, I'll bet Mr. Holdup didn't get a mint off you lads."

"He didn't bother with us. It was the cattle he wanted. They've driven
them across the line. At least, I reckon so."

Threewit woke up instantly. "That's different. Unload your story,
Yeager."

The extra told it in six sentences.

"Of course you didn't know any of the holdups. They were masked, you
say?"

"Yep." Steve's cool, steady eyes held those of the director. "But